Picture Perfect
by ListenToTheWind
Summary: You've seen them around. I know you have. Those people, the golden ones? The ones who can do nothing wrong? They make the uncool cool, and can get away with just about anything. Because they're perfect. Aren't they? Newsflash. No one is perfect.
1. Picture Perfect

**PICTURE PERFECT**

We've all seen it before. That person, those people who just _shine_. Everything they do is perfect, even when it's purposely _im_perfect. Oh, and you want to be like them. So much, you want to be like them. They're those people who set the trends, who can get away with doing the uncool things, and even more than that, they can make them cool.

They are picture perfect.

…But they're not.

Because a picture, as you know, only captures one moment. Even our magical, moving pictures, can only capture a moment of our lives. And it's so easy isn't it, just to pose for a picture? We all do it.

So next time you see them, the chosen ones, the golden group, look twice. See how she's smiling, but there's a tear brimming in the corner of her eye? Or how he has his arm around his brother, but if you look down, his brother is stepping on his foot?

Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ has got baggage. Has got secrets. Some just hide it better than others.

There's a reason the term is picture perfect.

Because no one is really _perfect._


	2. Roxanne

_**1: ROXANNE**_

No one has ever understood. You would think, in this family of legacies, that just one of them might get it. But no, I guess that I'm the only one who feels the way I do.

It's just my luck that I have a twin brother. Not that I don't love Fred, I do. But I was already going to be compared to my father and his twin, this just makes it that much worse. People don't seem to get it- I am _not _my dad, and even more, I'm not my brother! My God people, just because we're twins doesn't mean that our minds are like on the same wave-length or whatever. And it definitely doesn't mean that it's ok to buy us the same birthday present because "Oh, I'm sure it will even be even more fun to play with it together", cough cough, _Aunt Audrey. _I mean really? Giving us a guitar and telling us that it will be more fun to play it together is like giving someone a flashlight and telling them it works even better when its light out.

And people always just have to compare me to someone. Mum or dad, either way, they have to see the resemblances, I just can't be my own person. Like, the one time that I was 8 and I picked up a broom, suddenly there were about 10 aunts and uncles there, telling me how much like my mum I was. Or the first day of Charms 3rd year, I accidentally lit my partners hair on fire- accidentally, mind you, but did I get points taken off and maybe one detention like a normal person? No, I got an entire month's worth of detentions, because I was "a trouble maker, just like my dad". Yes, had to stomp out that behavior while they could.

I know, I know, now your thinking that I'm just complaining to complain, and now I seem completely fucking loony, because I'm ranting to nobody, and I should count myself lucky for all I have. And I know that I'm lucky, I do! I just wish that people could look at me and see Roxanne, that girl who was the only one to get an O on our potions OWLs, rather than Roxanne, that Weasley girl with red hair. Just like the rest.

Well anyway, I've just been thinking of this a lot lately, and it's what I'm thinking of when my brother pulls me back as I'm about to cross the street to get to King's Cross Station. A silver car whooshes past me, just inches away from my face. The only thing holding my back from tumbling forward is my brother's hand on the back of my jumper.

"Yeah I know," Fred says, before I can even completely absorb what has happened, letting go of my jacket so that I stumble into the street. "You meant to do that."

I roll my eyes at him, but I know he can see that I am grateful.

"Oh dear, you must be more careful!" Mum says, as she gets out of our car. Of course, I find it ridiculous that we drive anywhere at all. My dad agrees with me, but Mum, as always, insists upon it. She wants us to be, and I quote, "culturally educated". Which, naturally, means that the minute we're home for the summer, away with the wands, away with the brooms, we are, effectively, part time muggles.

"Yes Mum, I know, my ignorance will be the death of me," I say, ducking under her as she tries to wrap her arm around me while we cross the street. "But, seeing as I'm sixteen years old, I think that I'm no longer in need of you holding my hand to walk across the road."

"Wait for us to say goodbye before getting on board!" I give my dad a brief nod, before putting my headphones on my ears and blasting my music. I listen to rock and roll, strictly. Not any of this new, pop or rap stuff. People usually mistake me for one of those girls who's always sun-shiny, and all smiles, and a complete and total airhead. I maintain my belief that the red hair will do that to anyone. However, I can almost always set them straight within the first ten minutes or so.

I walk into the train station, and feel calm almost immediately. Even though I'm here to be shipped off to Hogwarts- and I _don't _do well with school- or work in general, I love being in the crowd. It's nice to be anonymous, just another face among many. Even the bright red hair seems dulled, considering what freaks you can find in such public places. Among the spiked green hair, and knee-high leather boots, I seem relatively normal. Even with my fishnet tights and dark make-up, I still don't stand out. And I can tell you, I'm loving every minute of it. Being anonymous. It's not something I get to experience very often, with my family. Well actually, that's wrong. In a family so big, I get passed over a lot. I'm okay with that though. It's the expectations that I hate. Like, since being great and perfect is so normal, being average would be a sin. That's why I like the crowd. No expectations. No forced smiles. No pretending.

That doesn't last for long, of course.

"Rox!" A high pitch voice screams. No, not screams. Shrieks. That's really the word I'm looking for. Just a _burst_ of energy- that's what Dominique always is. Unlike me, with my depressing clothes, music, blah blah blah, she really is sunshine, even without the red hair. Dom got lucky, and inherited the blond from her mother. She may be only a fourth veela (at most), but damn, the girl knows how to flaunt what she's got.

"Hey, Dominique," I grin. Dom is my best friend, if not favorite cousin. And I swear, not even Fred can bring out that bubbly, happy side of me that Dominique does.

"I have missed you so, so, so much this summer! I have so much to tell you, oh my God!" I can tell that she's about to launch into one of her rants, so I cut her off.

"Oh look, there's Molly and Luce," I say, pointing out two of our other cousins. Molly is fourteen, and Lucy thirteen. They are just about joint at the hip, and if ever two siblings had that psychic connection that my brother and I do not, it would be them. I swear, if they had been one person in a past life, I wouldn't be surprised.

"We'll talk to them later, right now, I have much more pressing matters to discuss with you!" She says this while emphasizing her words with an eye roll and a wave of the hand. Can you say overdramatic?

She linked arms with me, and led me to Platform 9 and ¾'s. We waited for a moment when no one seemed to be looking, and walked right through. I have to say, as much as I love blending in, I really like hidden magic like this. I just love the whole idea of it… just knowing that I can see something other people can't.

When we get onto the platform, I'm flooded with all these familiar faces. And suddenly, all of the relief from the crowd of muggles, and the thrill of secret magic were gone. I feel examined, inspected carefully. Like I'm under a microscope. I tug at my black skirt, feeling uncomfortable. I'm wearing almost all black, embracing this new goth thing that I've been trying out lately. But suddenly, with all these people I have known forever, it feels wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I feel wrong.

Dominique doesn't seem to notice my hesitation as she pulls me off into a corner, away from all the busy people. I know it seems almost insensitive, or if it were anyone but Dom I would think so, but this is why we get along so well. I'm stuck deep in my depressing thoughts about the meaning of life, and she, with all her bubbly confidence, distracts me from that. We balance each other out.

"Okay, so as I've been trying to tell you for _forever_," she starts, seeming to have forgotten that we've been together for all of about ten minutes. "I have big news!"

"So I've heard. Care to elaborate on this big, big news?" I smirk. Knowing Dominique, she's probably gotten a new absolutely_ incredible _shade of nail polish that she was just dying to tell me about.

"Well… I met a guy over the summer," She says, and I can tell from the glint in her dark blue eyes that she is very serious. My mouth drops open, but I shut myself up. It was an agreement we had along time ago, after her first date. When one of us talks about a guy, we just listen. Okay, it's usually Dom talking about a boy. Fine. Nine out of ten times. So I let her continue. "And… okay, so don't freak out on me…"

"Dom… why would I freak out on you?" I ask, and I'm sure she can hear the concern in my voice. Dominique had been known to have some… strange dating habits. The first guy she ever told me she was interested in was twenty-five. And she was thirteen.

"Okay… So his name is William. He's seventeen. He's really sweet, and oh God…"

"Dom, _why would I freak out?_" I ask, my voice now sounding shrill.

"Well… the thing is, he's a muggle." I look at her incredulously for a moment, before laughing.

"Dominique Weasley, you are the most ridiculous person I have ever met." I say between laughter. "God, you were having me thinking that this bloke had two heads or something, but a muggle, really? Why would I possibly care that he is a muggle?"

"I just thought that… well I just… I don't really…" She tried to start a few times, before giving up with an indignant look on her face.

Gotta love family.

**So here we are! I love writing about the next gen. for Harry Potter. There are sooo many ways to write it, like none of the characters have been defined so they are all mine to develop. I think that I started with Roxanne because I've only read like one fic where she was at all talked about. I decided to give her some recognition I guess. So if you didn't get it by the chapter name, this story is going to go from one character to the next, all the Weasley/Potter kids. I think I'll probably focus on a few specific ones though, which would be Roxanne, Dominique, Rose, James, and Lucy. Like, one from each family I guess. Ok that's enough from me, review!**

**PS. I just wanna say, that in two days from posting my last story, I got like 250 hits, and ONE review. One. Tsk tsk, such a disappointment. But on a brighter note, I got two really nice reviews for this right off the bat. Love you guys!**


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